Simply Love

"I trust by your easy breathing that you are human like me, that you are fallen like me, that you are lonely, like me. My love, do I know you? What is that great gravity that pulls us so painfully towards each other? Why do we not connect? Will we be forever fleshing this out? Is this God's way of meriting grace, of teaching us the labyrinth of His love for us; teaching us, in degrees, that which He is sacrificing to join ourselves to Him? Or better yet, has He formed our being fractional so that we might conclude one great hope, plodding and sighing and breathing into one another such a great push that we might break through into the Known and being loved, only to cave into a greater perdition and fall down at His throne still begging for our acceptance? Begging for our completion?
We were fools to believe that we could redeem each other.
Were I some sleeping Adam, to wake and find you resting at my rib, to share these things that God has done, to walk you through the garden, to counsel your timid steps, your bewildered eye, your heart so slow to love, so careful to love, so sheepish that I stepped up my aim and became a man. Is that what God intended? That though He made you from my rib, it is you who is making me, humbling me, destroying me, and in doing so, revealing Him?
Will we be in ashes before we are one?....
I will give you this, my love, and I will not bargain or barter any longer. I will love you, as sure as He has loved me. I will discover what I can discover and, though you remain a mystery save God's own knowledge, what I disclose of you, I will keep in the warmest chamber of my heart-- the very chamber where God has stowed Himself in me. And I will do this to my death, and to death it may bring me.
I will love you like God, because of God, mighted by the power of God. I will stop expecting your love, demanding your love, trading for your love, gaming for you love. I will simply love. I am giving myself to you, and tomorrow I will do it again. I suppose the clock itself will wear thin its time before I am ended at this altar of dying and dying again.
God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then- and only then- understand this gravity that drew Him unto us."


This is such a beautiful excerpt written by Don Miller in his book "Blue Like Jazz". He had written this for a play in which at this part a husband and wife were having marital problems and were contemplating divorce. One night while the woman is sleeping, the man sits up and says this monologue in frustration to his sleeping wife. The frustration soon turns to understanding as he learns and has the revelation from God of what it means to love. That yes it is the greatest risk you can ever take. To be vulnerable but not needy. To love. With no expectations of receiving that love back. It seems like a bothersome task, a lonely task. But it is what our Father above has done for us. He took the risk of loving us, knowing that we could easily throw His love away. The least we can do is the same. To love others, whether it be a spouse, significant other, best friend, church members, and even complete strangers. Because God risked Himself on each one of these people. On the cross where He gave every drop of His blood...and love. For us.